About this Book

He flattened out the newspaper, spinning it through a hundred and eighty degrees. The nurse's narrow, nail-bitten finger skewered a photograph of a man ducking into a government Rover on a busy London street. The man was in late middle age and surrounded by a crush of reporters. Gaddis read the caption.

Sir John Brennan leaves Whitehall after giving evidence to the inquiry.

There was a smaller, formal Foreign Office portrait of Brennan set inside the main photograph. Gaddis looked up. Somers saw that he had made the connection.

"Henderson is John Brennan? Are you sure?"

"As sure as I'm sitting here looking at you." Somers drained his pint. "The man who paid me twenty grand sixteen years ago to cover everything up wasn't just any old spook. The man who called himself Douglas Henderson in 1992 is now the head of MI6."

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